


Right of Publicity

by ifnotfornatasha



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blindness, Crack, Fame, Gen, Humor, Writing, i think, uhhhh yeah, what do i even tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 16:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18265448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifnotfornatasha/pseuds/ifnotfornatasha
Summary: When Daredevil gives out autographs, he signs two, interlocking D's. People think it's because it has style.Actually, it's because he's blind, but they don't know that.





	Right of Publicity

**Author's Note:**

> if you have no idea what the daredevil symbol/comic suit looks like you'll be lost so google the daredevil symbol for context if you don't know what's up

Matt could write.

He tended to write on a keyboard, which was easy once he found the little raised dots on the f and j keys, but that was writing all the same.

He'd been handwriting all the way up until he was nine, but then he'd gotten more focussed on Braille. Since, y'know. _Blind_. So technically, yeah, he could handwrite. Not cursive– not well, anyway–  but printing. Kind of.

He didn't need to handwrite much. He had to sign things, sometimes, but signatures didn't need to be the full name, only needed to be recognizable and consistent, so Matt tended to do an upstroke, a downstroke, then a repeat of that twice more into what Foggy described as a “very pish posh M.”

Technically, it was cursive.

Karen described it as a very fancy initial, to which Matt had said, “Thank you,” because Matt has manners.

That was as far as his writing went.

But then, _but then_ , some anonymous idiot decided to become Daredevil.

This mysterious idiot had counted on the scars, the bruises and the scratches (read: bullet holes.) He'd anticipated the pain, the hurt, the guilt and sometimes, the righteousness. He'd thought that he had known what he was getting into. At least a general idea.

Except that this anonymous idiot had not at all expected the enthusiastic notoriety that came with beating up people with punchable faces.

He wasn't a hero. He had to keep telling people that. For some reason, nobody ever listened when he said it.

He suddenly had people running towards him with battering heartbeats, raised body temperatures and mangled energy.

The first time it happened, he'd punched the man in the face and held him against the wall.

 _“What do you want?”_ he'd growled.

A second more of anxious silence and the man had timidly answered, “Selfie?”

Matt grimaced, felt a little bad for the guy's nose, and obliged him.

It only got more frequent after that.

Foggy and Karen made fun of him. Because of course they did. Assholes.

“At least _smile_.” Foggy had admonished. “You're cute but not hot enough that your grimace shows up well on camera.”

“I'm a vigilante, not a model.” Matt remembered saying, feeling vaguely insulted.

“He shrugged.” Karen had supplied. “In a very sassy way.”

After the selfie wave, came the second wave: selfies and _autographs_. The people he saved, the ones that caught him before he backflipped away, often had avid requests.

Sometimes, he ignored them if he heard screams from the block over. He'd never found screams comforting until he got cornered by a man wondering what he wore under his suit.

If he had no good excuse, he usually huffed and allowed them one selfie and _only_ one selfie.

Unbeknownst to that Matt, the selfies were the easy part. He grumpily stood while the public caressed his suit and not-so-subtly sniffed at him. Some were unimpressed that he only smelled like sweat and blood (scented lotions, shampoos and sprays were too much for him; made him feel like he'd just stuck his nose into a perfume bottle) but other people were weirdly excited about his “natural” scent.

People on the internet, according to Karen and Foggy, described him as smelling like a, “ _true man_ ,” whatever that meant.

Anyway.

Once he heard the camera shutter or their finger pressing against their screen, he'd leave. Quickly.

Backflip off a rooftop, parkour between buildings up _to_ a rooftop, run like a maniac across the street while fangirls and boys chased him… all very _cool_ things.

On the bright side, while selfies were happening (discounting the _afterparty_ ), he didn't have to do much.

Unfortunately for him, sometimes people were insane. Batshit crazy.

One woman admitted to getting mugged on purpose in the hopes that he could sign her Cards Against Humanity card.

He did not.

He did, however, sign someone else's Cards Against Humanity card, because they asked nicely, weren't looking to get possibly shot, and he didn't want to be rude.

The issue was, was that he couldn't exactly say, “I've got no idea where you want me to sign or where the text already on the card starts and stops and also I'm blind and can only assume that my writing looks obnoxiously terrible, so sorry about that. I just can’t be bothered to practice handwriting because it makes me feel stupid and I most certainly don't want to ask Foggy or Karen for help because they would very likely make fun of me, and rightfully so. Also, I'm in a rush and I don't actually want you to know I'm blind, so I can't feel out a straight line or make sure my letters are connecting so you might not even be able to read what my ‘signature’ says.”

Matt wasn't exactly going to spell out _Daredevil_ both for time and also because of the _awful handwriting_ part, so he settled on DD, considering that was what Spiderman tended to call him.

“DD.” the man read aloud. “Cool signature, dude!”

Matt grunted, because he had no idea what was so “cool” about his chicken scratch. Then he scaled up a fire escape and onto the roof of a building, eager to escape.

That wasn't the last time he had to sign something. He signed a blank piece of paper, which he afterwards learned was because the lady was getting was going to get it tattooed on her. Which, bad idea.

He tried his best to protest against that terrible decision, but she was squealing too much to notice. He was a man of words (lawyer) but he was also a man of justice (also lawyer, but in this context, vigilante) and there happened to be a bank robbery in action. The lives of twelve people outweighed the probably-about-to-be-ruined life of one.

Unfortunately.

He also signed body parts, but only ones above clothing. He learned to specify that after he stutteringly agreed to sign “some skin” of an old lady, only to have her begin to unbutton her old lady jeans.

He did not tell that story to Foggy and Karen.

They figured it out anyway, because apparently, granny was a savvy and was very popular on twitter.

Matt also signed fanart that he assumed looked great, posters that apparently existed of him and photos of him that he hoped were blurry.

“So when did you decide on your funky little signature?” Foggy asked one day.

They were supposed to be working, but they were taking a lunch break to munch on some suspicious smelling croissants.

Matt squinted. “ _What_ exactly is _funky_ about the way Daredevil signs things?”

He'd had enough of people commenting about how awesome or great his barely legible writing was. Did people really think that highly of a blind man's writing?

“Oh, come on.” Karen said, “You've got the two D's, which, sure, simplicity and time, you've got alleys to get beaten up in and all that–”

“People to save.” Matt muttered sourly, but Karen ignored him. But not before she gracefully and harshly whacked his shoulder for his input.

“–But then you've got them interlocking, like, one D a little into the other and kinda below. It was a good choice, Matt. It looks cool.”

Matt squinted harder and pursed his lips. He felt heat rise into his face.

A moment of silence passed.

Then another as the realization dawned. Foggy let out a loud, “OH!” while Karen stayed silent a moment longer.

She cleared her throat. “It– it uh, it wasn't on purpose. Was it.”

“Karen,” Matt told her, “I'm _blind_.”

Foggy giggled. Matt's eyes couldn't track, but he glared in the general direction of his friend's heartbeat. Then Karen started to giggle.

“What?” Matt snapped, probably a little harsher than necessary. Neither of his friends took note.

“Oh, Matt.” Foggy said through laughter.

Matt would never want any harm to come to Foggy, but he kind of wanted to punch his friend in the face right then.

“Your accidental funky signature is on t-shirts, you know.” Foggy informed him brightly.

Matt as red as his suit. That is to say, _very_ red.

_“What?”_

“Yeah,” Karen confirmed, “It's become Daredevil's symbol. Your signature with those D's. It's on all of your merch, people make graphic designs out of it, there's even _tattoos_. I saw someone with it on their face.”

Matt groaned and let his face fall into his hands. “You're kidding.”

He heard motion coming from Karen's direction, the air movement and her hair against her clothes and skin.

Shaking her head, probably.

Or she was having a seizure.

Probably the former.

“Well hey, they _are_ asking for a blind guy's signature.” Foggy defended, even though it didn't make Matt feel much better.

His dumb writing was on _t-shirts_. A symbol of Daredevil.

… _Why_ had he decided to start signing autographs?

Matt dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“They could at least give me a percentage of the money for _my_ signature on _my_ merch.”

Maybe then they'd have intoxicatingly _nice_ smelling croissants instead of whatever they had in front of them.

And a working printer. That'd be nice.

Matt didn't need to see Foggy to know that he was grinning. “Good luck suing the people for your personality rights, buddy.”

“Nelson & Murdock representing Daredevil?” Karen asked. “I feel like there might be a problem or two with that.”

“I need a drink.” Matt informed them, resolutely ignoring both of their musings.

“It's like, three in the afternoon!” Karen complained.

Matt needed _two_ drinks.

Foggy and Karen followed him out the door and the three of them ended abandoning their not-at-all busy office to go day drinking together.

They actually had a nice time until Karen pointed out that Matt's pool partner was wearing a necklace with a DD charm on it.

The man was very confused when Matt promptly dropped his pool stick and walked out the door.

_((Foggy and Karen bought him a Daredevil t-shirt for his birthday. He didn't have to ask to know what was on it.))_

_((He set it on the table, grabbed a match and burned it. The smoke set off the fire alarm and nearly set his apartment on fire, but it was worth it.))_

_((... They bought him another one for Christmas.))_

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @ifnotfornatasha  
> instagram: @ifnotfornatasha


End file.
